Destiny Crushed
by ZeDancingHobbit
Summary: During the Thunder Battle, what was meant to be just a simple thing winds up being a whole lot bigger, and nothing is ever going to be the same for Fíli. Fíli!Whump. May wind up being a bit AU. Movieverse.


**Hi! I do not need to start this and I should not start this but that's okay, because I will start it anyways. So, neocolai and Italian Hobbit have really inspired me (go check out their work-highly recommend it) with their amazing works of whump, but they're all about Kíli. And Fíli deserves some whump love too. So yay. Here it is. I hope you like it, and if you catch any glaring mistakes (or smiling, whichever) do no hesitate to tell me, por favor. **

**This takes place in the first movie, as of now, during the Stone Giant-things. Thunder Battle? Thunder Giants? (Insert Shawn Spencer-esque look here) Whichever. I've heard it both ways. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the wondrous Hobbit. **

oOoOo

Fíli used to enjoy thunderstorms as a child.

While Kíli would cower under the bed or in his mother's arms, quaking at the merest sound of thunder, Fíli would have to be yanked back by his collar from the doorway as he ran to immerse himself in the storms. He would relish in the cracking sound of lightning as it lit up the sky, laugh as thunder rumbled the floorboards beneath his feet. Sometimes, when he was younger, (not when he was older. Of course not. He was a mature, dignified dwarf. …) he would roar back at the sky beast that dared try to frighten him. He was Fíli, of the line of Durin, and he would best it!

Of course, it was a different story when the thunder chose to rain down upon him and threaten to squash him.

He flattened himself against the rock shelf, stone digging into his back as rocks flew down from the sky. Great. As if having to climb a small, slippery ledge in a thunderstorm wasn't bad enough, they had to do it in the middle of a thunder battle. Excellent.

Dashing aside the rain-soaked hair that had suddenly grown an affinity for his eyes, he searched for his little brother. Where, where, where…ah. There he was. Up duking it out about ten feet in front of him. Really, this rain and darkness was making it hard to see, especially when Kíli's clothes blended in with the rock so easily. Fíli hurried up his steps, pausing and twisting into the rock once more as a large chunk of rock hurtled past where his head had been moments before. He reached the pÓint where there was about a foot and a half of space between himself and Kíli, which made him feel as comfortable as could be expected when climbing the face of a cliff, considering he might have to pull the boy out of space.

"How are you dÓing?" he shouted over the shriek of the wind, knowing this was not Kíli's favorite environment. His only response was a pale grimace hastily cast over Kíli's shoulder, confirming that he was not a happy dwarf.

Well. Were any of them?

Fíli was snatched from his worries by the sight of a chunk of stone about the size of Bombur's stomach hurtling straight for Kíli. This wouldn't have been a problem if Kíli had been looking up, but the dwarf was consumed with watching the stone path and distracting himself from the thunder. A weight fell into his stomach, seeming to pull him down and backwards, away from Kíli. He tried to yell his name, but his tongue was dry and his throat was sandpaper.

Making a split second decision, he lunged for Kíli, his boots scrabbling for hold on the slick stone. His hand connected with his brother's back (_Mahal, _please_ keep him on the path_) and pushed him forward, sending him crashing to his knees with a surprised cry out of the path of the oncoming threat.

Coupled with his haste and the water covering the shale, the stability of Kíli's back beneath his hand disappearing was enough to send Fíli sprawling, his left hand outstretched towards Kíli and scrabbling for purchase. He hadn't counted on being in the path of the rock when it hit the wall, only wanted Kíli pushed out of the way.

Funny how plans change.

One second, he had been floundering like a fish, desperate for his boots to gain some tread before he slipped off into the chasm beyond. The next, he felt something smash onto his wrist, pain like nothing he'd felt before enveloping his hand, his arm. He screamed, fire consuming his flesh. He jerked his arm back, desperate to alleviate the all encompassing pain, but the thing would not release him, leaving him helpless and in agony. He couldn't even think to call for help, his mind was in such a blur.

He was dimly aware of someone yelling his name, footsteps thundering towards him. Hands pressed on his body, frantic-

"Fíli! Calm down! Fíli!"

And there was another voice, younger, higher, but in the agony induced delirium he couldn't remember who it belonged to. "My hand," he babbled out, gasping for breath, "my hand, my hand-"

"Shh, shh," the other voice, strong, firm, hushed him, placing a hand on his back to calm his frantic struggles.

The weight upon his hand-the pain so great, he almost couldn't feel it-moved a fraction of an inch, prompting the pain to flare higher. Fíli groaned through his teeth, letting out a stream of curses in Khuzdul. Once more, the weight was moved, and Fíli wasn't sure if he would be able to stand anything more.

"One more time, Fíli," the strong voice ground out (Thorin, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him), "One more, just hang on."

Fíli curled the fingers of his other hand into a fist, a scream ripping from his throat as the thing entrapping his hand was painstakingly removed. Suddenly free again, Fíli instantly retracted his hand, curling it into his chest as he sobbed in pain.

Kíli stumbled and fell to his knees before his brother, shaking hands grasping for Fíli's. "Let me see it, Fíli. Let me see."

Fíli shook his head frantically, his brain not thinking clearly as it attempted to cope with the trauma of what had just occurred. He clutched it to himself, his stomach turning knots. Not even his brother could calm him down at this pÓint,

"Fíli!" Thorin snapped, shoving Kíli away and gripping the sides of Fíli's head. "Fíli! Listen to me! You have to calm down, do you hear me? Breathe. You have to breathe."

With an effort, Fíli exhaled a breath he didn't know he had been holding. As he drew air in again, he started sobbing, his chest heaving for air. "I-I can't-it-it hurts-"

"I know," Thorin answered firmly, "but you have to breathe." His deep voice, normally so harsh and stern, had the exact effect upon Fíli that he needed. It pierced through the layers of pain fogging up his mind, beckoning him to suck in lungful of cold air.

"Good." Thorin grasped his nephew by his shoulders and heaved him off the ground, ignoring his yelps of pain as his wound was jostled. "Get him off the path. We need to leave-" But he was interrupted by a cracking sound, and he was suddenly gone, a harsh cry coming forth from him as he threw himself. For what reason, Fíli wasn't sure, but the throbbing in his hand kept him from finding out.

The next few moments were a pain-filled blur to Fíli. Black spots swam before his eyes, and the only reason that he was upright was Dwalin's thick, sturdy body. He dimly wondered where Kíli was as someone called his name, but the fire in his hand, shrieking for his attention, pulled his mind away.

He felt himself moved along the path-

"There ya go, laddie. One foot in front of the other."

Was he moving his feet? He couldn't tell. He felt sick, nausea roiling in his stomach, but he was still moving, still gÓing. Someone started yelling-would they please be quiet-and he felt someone else grab him. Taller than he, dark hair- "Fee? Fee, talk to me"- ah. Kíli. It was okay then. He sagged into his brother, his knees gÓing weak.

"Ah ah ah, no, stay up," Kili grunted out, looping an arm underneath his arms and hoisting the blonde up. There was fear in his voice, tightening it, and Fíli wondered idly what was happening. He couldn't seem to understand anything past the roar in his ears and the pain in his hand.

His hand.

He looked down at his chest, wondering for a split second what the red all over his chest was, before realizing that it was blood. His blood. His stomach heaved at the realization, and Kíli cried out for Thorin as his brother jerked away. His uncle appeared out of nowhere, taking the burden of his sister-son and, casting a few glowering remarks over his shoulder at someone, forged his way up the path. As they entered a sheltered cave, a low moan escaped Fíli's lips and he slumped downwards, nearly bringing Thorin down with him. All he wanted to do was sleep, get away from the fire still plaguing the hand clamped tightly to his chest. But it was not to be, for Thorin shook him awake.

"Fíli? Fíli, wake up!" he ordered, setting him on the ground and telling Kíli to make sure he didn't fall over. Fíli hissed as his uncle made to touch the wound, jerking it away.

"I need to see it. Where's Óin? We need him!" Thorin both rebuked his nephew and yelled for the healer at the same time. He turned back to Fíli and probed the limb, scowling as Fíli shook his head and cowered away once again. He was about to try for a third time when he was gently pushed away by the healer, a grave look upon his face. Still, he made an effort to smile and give Fíli a sense of peace about the whole ordeal.

"There now, it can't be all that bad," he clucked. "Just let me have a look at it, hmm?"

"P-please," Fíli stammered, tears welling up in his eyes again, "please, it hurts-"

"I know," Óin murmured, "but I've got to look at it." His fingers took careful hold of Fíli's arm, a few inches above his elbow, and all the strength seemed to go out of Fíli. He let the healer draw his hand out, eyes squeezed shut and head bowed as the agony flared up again. All around him, there were sounds of gasps and curses. Even Kíli had to look away.

"Wha…what's wrong?" Fíli questioned, raising his head. "What's-" He stopped, his blood running cold as he stared at his hand.

Or. Well. His former hand.

The first thing he saw was red. It covered his hand, a crimson horror. His fingers were all but gone, only the very bottoms of his index and middle fingers still there, the bones poking out of the decimated flesh. The skin was basically gone, his thumb plastered to the chunk of flesh like some grotesque extension. Shards of bone peeked out among the stark red. It reminded him, for all the world, of a slab of ground meat.

A tinny whine rose in his ears, his lungs constricting. He heaved for breath, eyes wide. The sounds around him were hollow, muted, leaving him in his own little bubble of horror as he stared at the monstrosity. He heard someone calling his name, hands shaking him, but he was unable to respond. It felt like moving through water. The world swam, and he vaguely realized he was crying as the world turned black.

oOoOo

**Reviews are love for poor Fíli! Poor guy. It must be hard to be loved so hard. **


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